Sick Days and Fever Dreams
by tjmack
Summary: Emma arrives at the station and finds a very sick Graham...someone has to take care of him. Two-Shot.
1. Even Sheriff's Get Sick

_**A/N:** _So this bad boy just popped up a few days ago, and wouldn't leave me alone. It's a two-shot, and this first part really got away from me. Enjoy. Oh and this takes place at some point before 1x07.

* * *

Emma groaned as she pulled up at Granny's. Graham had explicitly told her that it was her day to bring in coffee and donuts. Heaving a sigh, Emma pulled herself from her small bug, and started toward the front door. Pulling it open, Emma almost jumped as the bell above the door jingled out her arrival. Rolling her eyes at her jumpiness, she stalked forward and offered a small smile to Ruby.

"Graham's usual order?" the waitress asked, her eyebrow quirked slightly.

"Yeah, but can you add a hot cocoa to that order? I'm pretty sure that I'm going to need the extra sugar today." Emma asked softly.

Ruby nodded, before disappearing to the kitchen. Emma pulled herself up onto one of the bar stools while she waited. Tapping her fingers against the counter, she let her mind drift off. After what felt like only a few minutes, Emma felt someone tap her on the shoulder, swiveling her head around, she smiled weakly at Ruby.

"Maybe you should just call in sick today, Emma. You look absolutely exhausted."

Emma shrugged, "I'm alright up and dressed. Besides, once I get this coffee in my system, I'll be fine." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out some cash and laid some down on the counter. "Thanks, Ruby."

"You're welcome, Emma." Ruby answered, before picking up the money that Emma had laid down on the counter.

"You better enjoy these donuts, Graham." Emma mumbled as she tried to situate the box of donuts and the carrier of hot drinks in her arms.

* * *

Emma nudged the station door open with her hip. She knew that Graham was already here, since the cruiser was sitting in his parking spot. She had tapped her elbow against the glass door four times before she had given up in a huff, and shoved the door open as best as she could. Anger clouded her vision for a moment, figuring that she'd find Graham just sitting at his desk, staring off into space like usual, or tossing his darts at the dartboard and never missing.

As she stormed into the station and sat the donuts and coffee down on her desk, Emma turned toward Graham's office and shoved the small door open. Typically she at least found the respect to at least give a curtsey knock before barging in. Today though, respect was beneath her. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyebrows pulling up in confusion. Of every different scenario that Emma dreamt up of what had caused Graham to not open the door for her, this was so far down the list that it hadn't even made the list. Granted, she hadn't been Graham's deputy for all _that _long, she had still never seen this happen.

Graham's head was lulled forward against the smooth surface of his desk. His eyes were closed and Emma was almost positive that there was a small pool of drool underneath his mouth.

Shaking her head, Emma stalked forward and tried to ignore how absolutely adorable Graham looked sleeping. If she allowed his adorableness take over, then her anger would dissipate and she wouldn't be able to yell at him after she woke him up.

Softly, Emma nudged Graham's arm. He moaned softly, before turning his head away from her. Emma's lip curled back in anger. With more force, Emma nudged his arm again. He moaned, but lifted his head slightly.

"Emma?" he rasped out.

Emma's nose wrinkled at the way his voice sounded. She had heard that sound before. She knew what that amount of hoarseness meant, and instantly felt bad for waking Graham up.

"Graham, are you sick?" Emma asked.

Graham swiveled his head in her direction and groaned. "No. Just tired." His voice was starting to sound even raspier than before.

"Come on, let's get you home. You're not doing me any good being all sick, and you're definitely not doing yourself any good. You need to be in bed, Graham."

He shook his head, and moaned. His fingers pressed to his temples. "I'm not sick." He pleaded through slitted eyes.

Emma grinned, she had noticed a few things, mostly small, here or there, that she had in common with the sheriff. This whole denying sickness thing, was definitely something that they had in common. She didn't know how many times she had almost had to be hospitalized because she didn't just stop for a moment while she was sick. Luckily for Graham, she knew the tricks, and she damn sure wasn't going to let him work himself into the hospital.

"Okay. If you're not sick, then open your eyes without squinting, moaning, or groaning."

Graham stared at her, a scowl on his face for a moment. He knew that he would never be able to appease her, because he knew that if he did what she asked that it was going to cause the throbbing in his temples to worsen. That didn't mean he was sick. He just had a headache...possibly a sore throat. It was no big deal really. Even if he did feel like someone had run him over numerous times. He would never admit that out-loud, especially to Emma. She would just make him go home and go to bed. He also would never admit how wonderful that sounded.

"Sometime today, Graham. Some of us actually have work to do."

He attempted to nod, but ended up groaning instead. He wouldn't admit it, but his stomach was rolling uncomfortably. Graham tried to think quickly through the fog that clouded his mind. He was definitely going to throw up, but he really didn't want Emma to see that. Then again, Graham was fairly certain that he would never make it to the bathroom.

Emma could see the look on Graham's face, as he paled considerably. Bending down, she grabbed the trash can and shoved it under Graham's chin as he retched into it. He gagged a few added times, before leaning back in his chair. Emma could see the thin sheen of sweat on his brow and how the pallor of his skin had lightened to an almost see-through white. Graham was sicker than she thought, and she didn't like the thought of leaving him alone.

"Graham." She called, as his eyes started to droop close. His eyes snapped open as he gazed at her dazedly. "I'm going to reroute the station calls to my cell, and then I'm taking you home. You need rest, and I don't relish the thought of leaving you alone. Not when you're this sick."

When all he did was merely stare at her, Emma sighed. She made sure that Graham had a decent grip on the trash can in-case he felt sick again, while she set to work on rerouting the calls. It was going to be one hellish long day. Which reminded her, she needed to call Mary Margaret and let her know what was going on. As much as she didn't want to, Emma was pretty sure she would end up sleeping on Graham's couch tonight.

* * *

Emma groaned as she repositioned Graham's arm around her shoulder. She sent a glare at his half unconscious self, before climbing the last few stairs. She was at least thankful that she had gotten his keys from him before they even left the station. Pulling the keys from her pocket, she stared at them for a moment. She knew which key belonged to the cruiser, which belonged to the sheriff's station. Wrinkling her nose, she glared at the last two keys. Choosing one, Emma jammed it into the lock and twisted. When the lock didn't let loose, she sighed. Of course on a fifty-fifty shot, she would pick the wrong key. Grabbing hold of the right one, Emma shoved it into the lock and smiled when the lock let loose and the door swung open.

Slowly, she guided Graham to the couch and helped him sit down. "Stay put." Emma said sternly.

Graham just stared at her, his eyes glassy. "We're I'm gonna go?"

Rolling her eyes, Emma pulled herself up to her full height and wondered off to locate the bathroom. After opening two doors, and finding a bedroom and a closet, she located the bathroom. Walking into it, she pulled the medicine cabinet open and dug through it. She yelled victorious when she finally located both, a thermometer and cold medicine.

Walking back into the living room, Emma groaned. Graham had slid sideways, his head was lulled off to the right. With as frustrated she was at the fact that she would have to wake her boss, yet again, Emma had to admit that he looked absolutely adorable like that. After a few moments of watching Graham sleeping, almost peacefully, Emma shook his arm. Graham moaned softly, but rose back into a sitting position.

"Open your mouth." Emma instructed.

Through bleary eyes, Graham stared at Emma, but did as she instructed. Emma placed the thermometer under his tongue, and waited while he closed his mouth around the device. While she waited for the thermometer to beep, Emma walked into the kitchen and snooped around for a drinking glass. Four open and slammed cabinets later, Emma located the glasses and pulled one from it's perch. She filled it with water and returned to the living room. As soon as she sat the glass down on the coffee table, the thermometer beeped loudly.

Graham's hand sluggishly made a move for the thermometer, but Emma merely slapped it away before removing the device from Graham's mouth. Sighing, Emma shook her head.

"102.5. Not good, Graham. How long have you felt sick?" she asked him, as she placed her forearm against his cheek.

He shrugged sluggishly, as he attempted to pry his droopy eyes open. "A day or two." He answered huskily. His Irish lilt becoming more noticeable.

Emma shook her head, and tried to figure out how she didn't realize that Graham had been so sick. She instantly felt bad that she hadn't noticed that he hadn't felt good, and vowed to nurse him back to health.

"Let's get you into bed, Sheriff. You need rest and fluids." She grabbed the dis-guarded glass and the pills she had retrieved from the kitchen. She placed them in either of his hands and waited as he placed the pills in his mouth and took a long pull from the glass of water. Her nose wrinkled when he cringed as he swallowed down the mixture of pills and water.

She took the nearly empty glass of water from Graham's hand, before trying to help pull him into a standing position. Once she had him up, she slung one of his arms over her shoulder and maneuvered him toward his bedroom. He staggered a bit before falling onto his bed.

"You're really not going to be comfortable in that. I'll grab you something more comfortable to change into." Emma said, as she started to dig through Graham's drawers. After a couple of moments, Emma pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms and a plain white cotton t-shirt. She swallowed thickly before turning back toward Graham. "Do you need me to help you?" she asked.

Graham attempted to shake his head, after he pulled himself into a semi-sitting position. When the movement caused his head to ache with renewed force and his bedroom to spin in quick circles, he peered at Emma sheepishly.

She sighed. Emma had hoped that he wouldn't need help, but she couldn't deny a man so sick. Slowly, she walked forward and placed her hands on his shoulders.

He grinned at her, his glassy eyes seeing two of Emma. "I've waited so long to have you undress me, Deputy Swan."

Emma snorted. "Smooth, Graham. Real smooth."

With the tension in the room cut, thanks to Graham's untimely, and albeit lame, wit, Emma found herself less nervous about her current job. Fixing her fingers over the buttons on Graham's vest. She quickly undid them, and removed the vest from around his shoulders. Sighing softly, she went to work on his dress shirt, quickly undoing the buttons. Emma peeled the shirt from Graham's burning flesh and groaned. Of course his choice of clothing didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination as far as his muscle definition went, but she still hadn't been ready. His chest was well defined, but it was the fact that the sheriff was hiding a well defined six pack under his dorky vest and dress shirt that really boggled her mind. After a moment, Emma realized that she was ogling his bare chest. She flushed and Graham chuckled which led into a coughing fit.

_That was definitely a mood killer, _Emma thought with a smirk on her face. She pulled Graham's arms around her shoulders and helped him stand up. Once she was certain he wouldn't fall back down, Emma pulled the shirt up and over his head. Once she had it tugged on, she looked down.

"You can handle the pants part, right?"

One side of Graham's lips lifted in a lop-sided smile, "Of course." He whispered huskily.

Emma swallowed thickly and turned toward the door. "I'll just be in the living room. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. If you need anything before then, call me. I don't want you try to walk around by yourself."

"Okay." Graham mumbled, as he started to tug on his belt.

* * *

Emma jerked herself awake. _Dammit_, she cursed in her mind. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but Graham's couch was so damn comfortable and she was damn exhausted. Emma had even turned on the television to help keep herself awake and vigilant in case Graham needed her. She sighed, as she pulled herself into a sitting position. Then it dawned on her that _something_ had woken her up. Glancing at the clock, she shook her head. How had five hours passed without her knowing about it?

That's when she heard the noise that had woken her up again. A pain-filled scream erupted from Graham's room. Without a second thought, Emma jumped to her feet and ran toward his bedroom. Shoving the door open, she found him bent over double. There was vomit on the floor, and Graham was clutching at his sides as he heaved again.

Emma closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, before she joined him on the throwing up bandwagon. After she was certain she had control over her stomach, Emma opened her eyes. Graham had slumped back against the bed, sweat was pouring down the sides of his face. His skin had grown much paler than it had been before. Her eyebrows knitted together in concern as she stepped forward, sidestepping the mess on the floor, and pressed her forearm against Graham's forehead.

His head had only grown warmer in the five hours he had been asleep. She stared at him, as she contemplated taking him to the hospital. Emma was pretty sure that Graham had merely caught a really nasty flu bug, but she wanted to be safe. Emma knew just how dangerous high fevers could be, she had been on Graham's side of that certain equation more than once.

"Please. Just make it stop." Graham moaned out. Tears slipped down his cheeks, as his arm draped softly over his stomach.

Emma felt horrible for Graham, and wished there was something more she could do for him. She sighed softly, "I'm going to get you some more medicine and take your temperature again."

Graham merely moaned in answer, as Emma disappeared from the room. She stalked down the hallway and quickly located the dis-guarded items from earlier. Picking them all up, she walked quickly back down the hallway and back into Graham's bedroom. It appeared that he had fallen asleep again, but Emma knew it was important to get another dose of medicine in his system.

"Graham." Emma coaxed softly, as she shook his arm. He moaned, before cracking an eyelid open. "Mouth." She said softly and waited as he did as he was told. Placing the device in his mouth, Emma sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for the device to beep. Once it did, she removed the thermometer from Graham's mouth and frowned at the device. _103_ was far too high. Pulling out the correct dosage of cold medicine into her head, Emma elbow Graham's arm.

"I thought I was supposed to sleep." He groaned, as he opened his eyes.

"You are, but I need you to take these. While you do that, I'm going to get you a cold compress to help with your fever."

"Okay." Graham sighed, as he took the pills that she offered him, before chasing them down with water. He hoped with everything in him that both, the pills and water, would stay put in his stomach. Another round of violent vomiting didn't sound like something that would be fun.

Emma stalked off to the bathroom. She pulled a small towel from the linen closet and drenched it in ice cold water from the tap. She squeezed out the excess water from the towel, before turning back toward the bedroom. Graham was laying on his side, a soft snore erupted from his mouth. Emma took a moment to admire how adorable he looked, before stepping forward and placing the cold towel against Graham's forehead.

"Shit!" Graham cursed, as he jumped up at the surprising cold fabric.

Emma bit her lip to keep from chuckling at the confusion written on Graham's face. "I told you I was getting you a cold compress."

Graham sighed, before wriggling his body back down onto the bed. His eyes started to drift close as he felt Emma turning to leave. "Emma." He called out hoarsely.

She turned back toward Graham, her eyebrow raised curiously. "Yeah?"

He cracked his eyelid open again, and stared at her. Graham had known from the moment that she vowed to take him home and make sure that he got rest, the he would owe her big time. He hated what he was about to ask, he didn't want her to risk getting sick anymore than she already had, but he also didn't want to be alone. "Could you maybe sit with me? Just until I fall asleep?"

Emma just stared at him for a moment. The honesty in his voice and the embarrassment written on his face made her realize that she couldn't deny his request. "Sure." She answered. She knew that she needed to clean up the floor before it set in any further and stained the carpet. The smell was already starting to overwhelm the small room, but his eyes were pleading with her. "Just, let me clean that up first, otherwise you won't be the only one worried about throwing up." Emma wrinkled her nose.

He nodded his head, as Emma disappeared again. She returned after a few moments with a small bucket full of water and a trash can. She sat the trash can down beside Graham. "Next time you have to throw up, aim for that, please."

One side of Graham's mouth pulled up in a lop-sided smile. "I'll try."

Emma sat to work on cleaning up the mess on the floor, working hard to keep the small amount of food she had eaten, where it was meant to stay. Ten minutes later, Emma gave up. She had gotten most of it up, and it smelt at least somewhat better in the room. Emma went back into the bathroom and dumped the disgusting water into the tub and decided to deal with that later. Grabbing the floral spray from the counter into the bathroom, Emma walked back into the bedroom and sprayed a generous amount of the strong-smelling spray around the room. She dropped the can off on the dresser before crawling onto Graham's bed, next to him. She felt his body relax and his breathing start to even out. In a matter of minutes Graham was sound asleep and Emma felt herself starting to drift off as well.

* * *

Emma groaned, as she blinked her eyes bleary. Had she fallen asleep again? Sighing, she attempted to sit up, but noticed that her arms were wet. Staring at them, she realized that the bed and Graham's pillow were soaked. Fear hit her first, as she felt his face. Fear fell away to relief. His fever had pretty much broken. He was only slightly warm now. Glancing at the alarm clock on Graham's nightstand, she sighed. Almost eight hours had passed since Emma had brought Graham back to his apartment. She was starving, and she was hopeful now that his fever was down that he might be able to keep down some food.

Shaking his shoulder, she waited through his groan before speaking. "How're you feeling?" she asked softly.

He moaned, as he turned onto his back. He glanced at her for a moment before answering. "Not quite like I'm about to die. I did throw up again, but I made it into the trash can like you asked."

Emma grinned. He was joking again, that was definitely a plus. She wondered briefly how she had slept through Graham throwing up, but merely shook it off. "I'm starving, and I know you have to be too. Do you think you can keep down some soup?"

Graham brought his index finger to his chin and tapped. On one side, he was definitely starving and soup sounded wonderful on his dry and raw throat. However, on the other side, he was pretty sure he didn't even want to throw up again. Ever. Contemplating both sides, Graham realized that if he was going to throw up again, that it would be with or without food. Might as well soothe his aching throat.

"Soup sounds amazing." He rasped out.

Emma smiled softly at him, before placing the back of her hand against his cheek. "Just let me check your temperature one more time. You feel much cooler, but I want to make sure."

Graham nodded softly, as she placed the device in his mouth. She waited until it beeped before removing it. "What's the damage?" he asked.

"Much better. 99.5 is barely a temperature."

Emma made a move to get off the bed, when Graham reached out and snagged her wrist. "Emma, wait." She turned back toward him, and saw the conflict written on his face before he spoke. "I just—thank you. For taking care of me. No one has ever cared enough to do that before. It means a lot, and I definitely owe you one."

Emma sat there for a moment, taking in what he's said. It broke her heart to realize that no one had ever cared enough about Graham's well-being to take care of him. Then again, she knew what it felt like to have no one care about you. To have no one take care of you. "You're welcome, Graham. I've been there too. I know what it's like." She sighed, she hadn't meant to said the words out-loud, but oddly, she didn't want to take them back. Graham smiled softly at her, as she stood up from his bed. She stretched out the kinks in her back and started to walk toward the door. Pausing for a moment, she grinned as she turned back toward Graham. "And you definitely do owe me one."

Graham chuckled lightly, as he watched her walk out of his bedroom. He had always hated being sick, but if being sick meant spending the day with Emma Swan, then he would surely take it.


	2. Even Deputy's Fight Fever Dreams

_**A/N:** _So, first off, apologies for this taking me so long to finish up. It's been half finished for like a week, but I've had horrible mirgraines most of the week, and writing has been...difficult. I managed to finish this up today, and I went a little overboard again, not that you guys mind, haha! Also, for anyone wondering, the puposed nickname for Graham in this chapter is what I actually refer to Graham/Jamie Dornan as. In fact, I say it so much that my friends actually have started to refer to him by the nickname. I can't remember who, but I got the name from someone on YT. So, by all means if you guys want to start using the nickname, go for it. Now that I'm done rambling, go on and enjoy this last installment.

* * *

Graham sighed and stretched out his back as he walked toward the station doors. Emma had told him to take a few days off, to make sure that he was truly getting well, but he had hated burdening her with the station work all alone for a full day. So, he had only taken one extra day off, big deal. The way he figured it, Emma would probably be so happy that he decided to come in today that she wouldn't even attempt to scold him for not listening to her.

He hadn't ran a temperature for a full twenty-four hours and he felt nearly normal. His throat was still a bit raw and his stomach was still a little queasy, but he was able to hold down food now. The way he saw it, he was good as new.

He pushed the door open and sauntered inside. As he stood at the cusp of the hallway he heard a wall shaking sneeze erupt from inside the building. Rushing forward, Graham stopping dead in his tracks. Guilt hit him like a ton of bricks when Emma turned her bleary gaze in his direction.

Her face was pale white, except for her cheeks which were rosy red, from what Graham guessed to be a pretty high temperature. Her eyes were bloodshot and drooped close. The tip of her nose held a shiny, redness to it that said that she had been blowing her nose frequently.

"Oh, Emma." Graham sighed, as he slowly stalked forward. Kneeling in front of her, Graham pressed the back of his forearm to her forehead and shook his head. "You're burning up. Why did you come in today?" he asked, his eyes full of worry.

Emma attempted nonchalance by shrugging, but it took nearly every ounce of energy she had to lift her shoulders halfway into a shrugging motion. "Probably not my smartest idea." She rasped, and Graham's nose wrinkled.

He knew how bad the sore throat thing sucked, he was still battling his own. "Well, Deputy Swan, I'm relieving you of your duty. Go home and go to bed."

Emma stared at him, her eyes glassy. If she was honest with herself, she had wanted to leave the moment she arrived at the station. Her bed had been calling her name as soon as she had dragged her half-lead body from it this morning. However, it had taken everything in her to make it to the station in one piece. She couldn't count on one hand how many times her eyes had drifted close on the short drive from her shared apartment to the station. Once she had found herself nearly in the ditch because of it. Since she didn't trust herself to attempt to drive back to the apartment, she had decided to stay at the station until school let out so that Mary Margaret could come pick her up.

"Not sure that's the best idea, Sheriff Humbert." Emma rasped out.

Graham nodded, of course it wasn't. Emma didn't look like she could hold up her own weight, let alone drive herself home safely. He made a decision, since it was his fault that Emma was sick, then he was going to take her home and take care of her. She had done the same for him, it was only fair that he return the favor.

"Emma, listen to me." Graham prodded, as she lifted her head to look at him. "I'm going to reroute the calls to my cell. Then I'm going to take you back to my apartment and let you get some sleep."

Her eyebrow arched, "Are you trying to seduce me, Sheriff?"

Graham chuckled lightly, "No, Emma. I'm trying to help you out. Like you did with me." He paused for a moment when she got a look of confusion on her face. "This is all my fault. You didn't have to take care of me, but you did and now you're sick. So I'm going to take care of you."

Emma made a move to nod but felt her stomach starting to lurch. She tipped her head toward the garbage can, which Graham quickly nabbed and held under her chin as her stomach rebelled. It had never been in her game plan for Graham to ever see her throw up. Even if she had no intention of dating him, that didn't take meaningless sex off the table—however, watching someone heave their guts into a trash can tended to take a toll on any attempt at passion or heat.

"So, now we've both thrown up in the station." Graham pointed out, as Emma lifted her head from the can and wiped her mouth, she rolled her eyes. "Probably not something that needed to be pointed out. I see that now." Graham muttered softly. "Let's get you back to my place so you can sleep."

Emma groaned, "No. Just take me to my apartment. You can watch me there. I want to get into my bed. Put on my pajamas. Please."

Graham sighed, he couldn't deny her. "Okay, hand over your keys though. I don't want to try to wrestle them out of your pocket when we get to your apartment."

Emma chuckled lightly as she dug into her pocket for her keys before handing them over to Graham. "Onward, Sheriff Graham!"

Graham rolled his eyes, as he pulled Emma into a standing position. She lost her balance quickly, falling against his chest. He knew that dragging Emma up the numerous stairs at Mary Margaret's place was going to be a chore.

Graham groaned as he leaned Emma against the couch, before shutting the door. He breathed deeply for a few moments, his vision blurring for a minute. Wheezing out a cough, Graham was quickly reminded that he wasn't fully well himself. Sighing softly, he guided Emma around to the front of the couch and eased her down onto it. He grumbled softly, before turning around and locating the bathroom. He scrounge around for a little bit before locating a half empty box of cold medicine and a thermometer. Walking back toward the living, Graham made a quick stop off at the kitchen for a small glass of water.

He lowered himself down onto the couch next to Emma, before holding out the thermometer. As he waited for the device to beep, he dislodged two pills from the box and sat them beside the glass of water. Shortly after the device beeped, and Graham pulled the thermometer from her mouth. He eyed it and groaned.

"102.9." He mumbled, before shoving the two pills and the glass of water into her hands.

She took them and grimaced at the pain that erupted in her throat. Her eyes slowly started to droop close. Graham looked at Emma and the stairs. Standing up, he placed one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, effectively pulling Emma into his arms. He grunted at the added weight, waiting a moment to regain his balance, before stalking off toward the stairs. He took them slowly and after what felt like a century he made it to the top and shoved Emma's bedroom door open with his foot.

He sat her down on her bed and stared at her dresser. Graham knew that once Emma was back to herself, that she would kill him for what he was about to do, but he also knew that Emma didn't have the ability to do it herself. He pulled open a couple of different dresser drawers before locating a pair of pajama pants and one of her white tank tops.

"Emma. Em." He prodded softly and waited as she groaned and cracked an eyelid open. "Let's get you dressed." Graham held up the tank top and pajama pants.

Emma struggled to pull herself into a sitting position. She eyed him, "I got it." She mumbled, blindly reaching for her clothes.

"At least let me help you with the shirt. I don't want to risk you falling down."

Emma shook her head, "Not gonna happen, Sheriff."

Graham sighed, he knew that he'd never win this argument. Not while Emma was at least half way in her right mind. "Fine. I'll be downstairs, shout if you need me."

"Got ya." Emma grumbled, snatching the clothes from his hand and watching him stalk away from her and toward the door.

* * *

Graham jerked awake, he eyed the clock on the way and groaned. He had promised himself that he would stay awake, that he needed to check on Emma every hour and a half, to monitor her temperature. Yet, he had fallen asleep on the job. He swallowed thickly, the burn in his throat still plaguing him. Graham scratched at his head as he realized that something had woken him up. He made a move to sit up, when a scream filled the air. Without a second thought, Graham jumped to his feet. His boots slapped against the hard wood floor as he stomped his way to the stairs that led up to the loft bedroom. He climbed the stairs two at a time, only pausing briefly at the top to catch his breath before running toward Emma's room. He slid to a stop as he yanked the door open.

He sighed in relief when he noted that Emma was sound asleep. Her body was strewn sideways, taking up the entire full size bed. Her comforter hung off the side of the bed, barely covering her shivering body. Running a shaky hand through his hair, Graham walked forward and stooped to pick up the comforter and cover Emma back up with it. It was when he was on his way back to a standing position that another ear-splitting scream broke out from Emma's mouth. Graham nearly fell backward, but caught himself. He haphazardly tossed the blanket onto Emma before moving around to the opposite side of the bed. He quickly stripped his boots from his feet, before climbing up into Emma's bed. Her back was to him, and Graham had to shove her feet over to her side of the bed before he could lie down.

Once he was comfortably onto the bed, Graham pulled Emma against his chest. He put on arm around her waist to hold her in place, while he softly brushed back the blonde curls that were currently stuck to Emma's face. He groaned at the heat that seemed to still be radiating off of her body. He knew that he needed to get her another dose of medication, but at that moment he just wanted to calm what appeared to be a horrific nightmare, most likely brought on by her high temperature. Emma started to whimper. It was soft, and it broke Graham's heart. All he wanted to do was protect her.

"Ssh, Emma." Graham whispered softly into her ear. "I'm here. No one is going to hurt you. I promise." He closed his eyes as he wrapped his other arm around her and cradled her closer to his chest. Slowly, softly, he rocked both of them side to side.

Slowly, Emma became less agitated and after a few minutes of the gentle rocking, Emma's body fell still and the whimpers that were constantly flowing from her mouth stopped. Graham sighed in relief. Carefully he raised himself up and reached over Emma's body to grab a hold of the thermometer and the box of cold medicine. He hated the thought of waking her up after he had just got her calmed down.

Sighing, Graham softly nudged her arm. Emma groaned, but didn't open her eyes. Graham nudged her arm with a little bit more force. "Emma, I need to take your temperature. You don't have to wake up, just open your mouth." Graham prodded.

Another groan escaped from her mouth, but she obeyed his demand and dropped her mouth open. Graham stuck the device in her mouth, and waited as she closed her mouth around it. He waited the couple of minutes until it beeped before removing it from her mouth. His nose wrinkled. _103.5. _Her temperature was definitely edging closer to the danger zone. Nudging her with his elbow, Graham heard a moan, as Emma flopped onto her back. One eyelid cracked open as she glared at Graham.

"You are bothersome." Emma muttered. Slowly she sat up before screwing her eyes closed. Her vision started to swim at the small amount of movement. She knew that meant that her temperature had gone in the wrong direction. "What do you want?" Emma said, with her eyes still closed.

"Your temperature went up, you need more medicine."

"Ugh." Emma muttered, before holding out her palm.

Graham shoved two pills into her palm, as he watched with curiosity as she cracked an eyelid and located the glass of water from earlier. She shoved the two pills in her mouth before grabbing hold of the glass and downing the rest of the water in glass. She groaned as her face screwed up as she swallowed.

"Throat sore?"

Emma slowly cocked her head and fixed Graham with a glare. "Thank you, Sherlock Holmes." Emma muttered.

"Man, you're even more grumpy when your sick." Graham said, a pout on his face.

Emma's nose wrinkled as a thought came over her. "Graham. Why are you in bed with me?"

A sheepish grin came over his face, as he awkwardly shrugged his shoulders. "You were having a nightmare, a bad one. I wanted to make you feel better."

Emma didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand she was a little creeped out by the fact that her boss, no matter how dangerously handsome he was, had laid down with her and calmed her fever-induced nightmare. Yet, on the other hand, she was thankful and taken aback by the gesture. No one had ever been willing to do that for her before. She had just kind of toughed out the fever-induced nightmares on her own.

"Thank you." Emma muttered.

Graham shrugged, "It was the least I could do. I mean, you being sick, that's my fault."

Emma attempted to roll her eyes, but the movement caused her to get dizzy again. "You didn't ask for the flu, Graham. You didn't ask me to take care of you. I decided to do that, knowing that I was putting myself at risk. No sense in you blaming yourself." Emma spoke, before a yawn broke out.

"Lay back down, Emma. You need rest."

She eyed him wearily, before obeying his order. She curled up on her side. "You don't have to stay in here, ya know."

Graham smiled, even though he knew that she couldn't see him. "Figure I might as well. You're likely to have another nightmare, and I won't let you suffer alone. The least I can do is help you fight off those nasty nightmares."

Emma didn't say anything, but she smiled softly. As weird as it was, having Graham watching her sleep, she felt oddly at peace knowing that he was looking out for her. Emma knew she would never be able to describe the safe feeling that Graham gave her, nor would she ever try and after she was well again, Emma knew she would give him a hard time about it. Especially since her walls will be firmly back in place once she's won the battle over the flu.

Graham watched as Emma's body stilled and her breathing evened out. Slowly, he slid down into a lying down position, his eyes drifting close and his battle against sleep was lost quickly.

* * *

Graham slowly woke up, a smile on his lips as he turned his slightly aching head toward Emma's still unconscious form. She had curled up again his side, her head resting against his arm with one of her arms hanging over his midsection. He threw his free arm around her and clutched her a little tighter to him. He couldn't quite explain it, but he loved the feeling of Emma lying next to him, curled up. It felt right, like he was finally _at peace_.

"Mmhmm." Emma moaned out, before blinking her eyes open. Noting her closeness to Graham, she blushed. "Sorry. You probably don't want some sweaty woman clinging to you." She muttered, before shifting on the bed. She pulled herself into a sitting position and felt extremely glad that her head didn't spin at the sudden movement.

"It wasn't horrible." Graham pointed out, before reaching out his arm and resting it against her forehead. He chuckled lightly when Emma groaned. "Not too warm." Graham noted, before pointing at the thermometer, "I'd like it if you'd take your temperature though, Deputy Swan." Graham joked.

Emma's eyes widen for a moment as she tried to understand how someone who told the world's lamest dad jokes, could mutter something half-way witty. After a moment, she shrugged, giving up her attempt at understanding Graham's odd wit, and reached for the thermometer. Emma cursed when her hand brushed against the glass that she had emptied, sending it and the thermometer tumbling to the floor.

"No harm, no foul." Graham muttered softly, as he pulled back the comforter from the lower half of his body.

Emma eyed him carefully, noting that he had removed his vest and had rolled up the sleeves on his dress shirt. He had also removed his shoes, which Emma was eternally grateful for. She'd hate to have to yell at him, when he had taken such good care of her. Graham came to a stop in front of her, and bent to pick up both the thermometer and the glass. Emma ended up with a very good view of Graham's ass, and was unable to stop herself ogling him. She coughed awkwardly, as he made a move to stand up.

"Here you go." Graham said after a moment, completely unaware of Emma's current level of discomfort. He thrust the thermometer at her, before he noticed the look on her face. It looked like she was having some kind of epic internal battle waging inside. He quirked an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"

Emma was fighting with herself. Since the day that she had met the infuriatingly, hot sheriff, Emma had wanted to say something to him to point out just how hot he was, on the off chance he didn't happen to know. She had fought with herself over it since day one, and she was currently losing the battle. Emma did have the fact that she was sick on her side, she could always blame the almost non-existent fever for causing her to lose her mind. Yet, it was the fact that she would have to face him at work after this that was keeping her mouth shut. At least she thought it was. That was until she felt her mouth open. She attempted to clamp her mouth shut, but it was a lost cause.

"I believe I've found a nickname for you, Sheriff Graham."

Graham's eyebrows cocked in confusion, wondering where this line of conversation was headed. Crossing his arms across his chest, he grinned at her. "What's that, Deputy Swan?"

Emma averted her eyes, as she spoke the words. "Sheriff Hotpants."

Graham's mouth dropped and hung open for a moment. He didn't know what to think. Sure he had seen the way the women in town stared at him. Especially Ruby who appeared to undress him with her eyes every time he walked into the diner, but he had never had anyone blatantly say anything to him about it. He never really ever saw his appeal to women. He was scruffy and rough around the edges. To him, there wasn't much that was appealing, but he didn't deny the effect that he appeared to have on women.

"Wow." Graham muttered finally. "And I thought I crossed a line by allowing myself to cuddle with you in bed." Graham chuckled, suddenly finding the absurd nickname hilarious.

"God, I feel like an idiot." Emma muttered, her eyes boring holes into the comforter covering her legs.

Graham crouched down in front of her. He placed his thumb under her chin, effectively lifting it up so that she was looking at him. "You're not an idiot, Emma. Granted, I haven't known you all that long, but from what I've learned about you..." he paused, raking his fingers through his unruly curls, "you are kind, sweet...a little off-putting, you have issues with letting others in, but you are an amazing woman, Emma Swan. So, you embarrassed yourself a little bit. It's not a big deal. If I remember correctly, I said some unflattering things to you when I was sick. It happens. No need to feel bad about it. I'll just take it as a compliment." Graham finished with a wink.

Emma blew out a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding, which led to a coughing fit.

"You alright, Emma?" Graham asked, concern written on his features.

She nodded her head, "Apparently holding your breath isn't the smartest thing when your still battling the flu." Emma muttered.

Graham nodded, "Probably not." He attempted to hand her the thermometer again, and smiled when she took it without incident. He waited until it beeped, before examining it. "99.2. Very good." Graham rocked back on his heels, before pulling himself to his full height. "So, how does soup sound? I'm starving, I know you have to be too. I'll make a quick run to Granny's."

Emma smirked, "Soup sounds amazing."

Graham smiled back, before nodding. "I'll be back in a few." He muttered, before disappearing from her room.

Emma laid her head back against her pillow, a smile still on her face, realizing how thankful she was that Graham was there to take care of her.

* * *

_**A/N:** _So, lots of mushiness in this one. I couldn't help myself. I figure a sick Emma = an Emma with her walls at least partially down, which in turn means fluff and lots of it!


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